


That's not what he's saying

by Codango



Series: Those goddamn Karasuno boys [4]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - College/University, Casual Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Height Differences, M/M, One Night Stands, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Strangers to Lovers, Sugar Daddy, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:14:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8763751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Codango/pseuds/Codango
Summary: Seeing Nishinoya waltz proudly into practice all week long with all manner of hickeys and nail marks everywhere...Hearing Kuroo coo over the phone with Tsukishima and then indulge himself rather obviously in the room next to Aone’s for six nights straight...It was a problem, all right? Aone wanted someone to help him out with his broken heart and his hard-on, and while normally he’d be picky about that order, by Saturday night he was ready to take whatever he could get.------Another POV switch for And yet here you are, this time with long-suffering Aone.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all, it's Tatsu. Remember Tatsu? From [_Wingmen are supposed to be supportive_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6090718/chapters/13960366)? Shizuku's older brother?  
>  No?  
> Anyway.  
> This is Aone/Tatsu. That's what this is.

Aone Takanobu liked the guys from Karasuno. He did. They played hard, were good sports, and supported their teammates. Aone could appreciate people like that.

It would have been convenient if that was as far as his admiration went. Unfortunately, Karasuno’s No. 10 went ahead and blew past _admiration_ early in Aone’s third year of high school. Hinata Shouyou had stood opposite him on the court of the season’s first practice match, with his short, neat haircut, his sculpted jaw, and his maturing muscles, and Aone had burst into metaphorical flames.

The flames were doused almost immediately thanks to the cool drink of water that was Kageyama Tobio.

Hinata’s eyes followed Kageyama everywhere. Hungrily. Aone watched those soft brown eyes a lot. At practice matches. At tournaments. Oh, Hinata always remembered Aone, of course. They would bow, and Aone would blush a little (he never learned how to not do that), and Hinata would make a joke like, “We won’t lose!” or “Fight your hardest!” and Aone would treat this with the grave sincerity it deserved.

At the end of every game, win or lose, Hinata would seek Aone out for another bow. Aone would do his part and not focus too much on the way his red hair clung to the sweat on his forehead or the way his skin flushed such a beautiful pink after playing his heart out on the court.

Because Hinata lived to rise to Kageyama’s expectations. And while Aone would work hard for anything, he knew a lost cause when it was staring him in the face. Especially when it was staring someone else in the face.

 _Especially_ when it was kissing that face after a particularly hard battle toward the end of Aone’s third year. Kageyama and Hinata had blown through Date Tech’s iron wall with their deadly quick, and Aone’s high-school volleyball career was done. He’d taken a long time in the showers after the game, coming to terms with the fact that it was time to move on to university, to another team. Maybe, just maybe, he should confess before he went? This would be his last chance...

Aone had walked out of the locker rooms and turned a corner to find Kageyama bending low for a soft kiss from Hinata. Aone noted that Hinata had to stand on his tiptoes, because of course he did. He turned and walked quietly away.

* * *

 

Aone’s first semester at university went well. He put his head down, worked his ass off in practice and at the gym, and came to know former rivals as valued teammates. Sometimes Date Tech players kept him updated a little too well, but for the most part, Aone tried to move on and did an okay job of it.

Except Karasuno came for him in college too.

First it was Nishinoya Yuu, Karasuno’s libero. He joined the team when Aone did. Well, that wasn’t so bad. Nishinoya was talented, a welcome addition. Of course, Aone had sort of forgotten that Azumane Asahi, the sports med tech who worked most of the volleyball games, was also from Karasuno. The first time Aone saw Nishinoya and Azumane together in college...

It had started out as a routine practice and looked to be ending that way too. Then, five points into their wrap-up scrimmage, Aone saw Azumane walk through the side door with Iwaizumi Hajime, another old high-school rival. He watched Oikawa’s head swivel first and then Nishinoya’s. And _then_ Aone saw Kuroo go up for the hit.

“Oi—” Aone began, but the ball was off Kuroo’s hand and in Nishinoya’s face before the warning cleared his throat.

Azumane was on the court in three seconds, hands all over the fallen libero. Aone knew he was responding to his training. He was doing his job, really. But Nishinoya’s eyes had hearts in them, despite having a fat lip courtesy of a Kuroo Tetsurou spike.

After making sure Nishinoya wasn’t dying, Aone left the gym with the rest of the team. He gave an ill-advised glanced over his shoulder to see Azumane kneeling in front of a blushing Nishinoya. He appeared to be massaging his _feet._

Aone had thought about putting his fist through a wall just to see if he could do it. Instead, he helped Nishinoya pick out a wine for his first official date with Azumane.

But seriously, what was it with Karasuno anyway? Did _everyone_ there fall in love with their teammates?

Oikawa giggled about sexual tension. Aone wished that looking at them didn’t remind him of what he used to feel about short redheads with pretty skin.

* * *

 

It wasn’t quite so hard when Karasuno’s icy middle blocker showed up as a third-year high-school recruit on an early spring weekend. For one thing, Aone had known Tsukishima Kei was coming. It helped not to be blindsided.

However, Kuroo didn’t need to be _so_ damned excited about hosting the guy.

Aone didn’t mind when Kuroo asked him to order a beer that would be light enough for Tsukishima to enjoy at the volleyball team’s house party. He minded a _little_ when, after post-game drinks the next day, he was kept from drifting pleasantly off to sleep in his warm bed by:

“Ts-Tsukki. Don’t.”

And then: “F-fuckkk...Tsukki.”

And then: “Mm _mm_ , Tsukki, I can’t—”

He’d never put in his headphones so fast.

* * *

 

But the biggest problem, by far, was unexpected.

Seeing Nishinoya waltz proudly into practice all week long with all manner of hickeys and nail marks everywhere...

Hearing Kuroo coo over the phone with Tsukishima and then indulge himself rather _obviously_ in the room next to Aone’s for six nights straight...

It was a _problem_ , all right? Aone wanted...well, he _wanted_ someone to help him out with his broken heart and his hard-on, and while normally he’d be picky about that order, by Saturday night he was ready to take whatever he could get.

Aone was trying to drown out his self-pity (and distract his dick) with some after-dinner studying when his phone vibrated.

_**Nishinoya:** yyooo!!!_  
_**Nishinoya:** ladies WON!!!_  
_**Nishinoya:** you shoulda been here was amazing_  
_**Nishinoya:** why weren’t you heeeeeeerree??_

Aone wiped a hand over his face. Trying to watch a game while Nishinoya tried to crawl into Azumane’s lap in the stands? The idea did not appeal. Especially when _another_ Karasuno alum would be right next to them watching his _girlfriend_ on the _court._

Really, even Tanaka Ryuunosuke had a girlfriend. _Everyone_ from Karasuno was in love with someone, and Aone was studying civil law on a Saturday night.

_**Nishinoya:** aannyyywaaayy _  
_**Nishinoya:** we’re all goin to Tanaka’s bar_  
_**Nishinoya:** all the pretty people will be there_  
_**Nishinoya** which means you gotta be too or else ‘all’ won’t be true_

Aone permitted himself a slow face-plant on his desk. He reached for his phone, knowing what he was going to do even as he doubted the wisdom behind it.

_**Aone:** yes_

_**Nishinoya:** [explosion emoji x5]_

Aone had been to Tanaka’s pub several times now. Over the course of the spring semester, it had for some reason become the athletic department’s de facto hangout. Aone had no protest—the kitchen turned out flavorful comfort food and occasionally the bar had an interesting new beer to try. It also tended to be quiet on weeknights when Aone wanted to study with some edamame and a cold beer.

Saturday nights were another story, especially Saturday nights after a game, and _especially_ Saturday nights after a winning game.

Students were spilling out onto the chilly sidewalk when Aone rounded the corner to the pub. But he’d gotten better about handling crowds in college. Anyway, Tanaka’s pub never felt stifling no matter how many students shoved inside. It just felt...warm and cozy. Aone liked it.

He nudged his way through the curtain and breathed in deep. The scent of fried food, the clink of ice in glass, the warmth of dozens of strangers and friends all pushed up next to one another. If Aone ever owned a restaurant (a rather nonlucrative dream, according to his family of attorneys), he’d have to ask Tanaka’s father how to create a place that breathed welcome like this.

Nishinoya saw him before he was halfway to the bar.

“Oooiii!” He waved a hand in a huge sweep. “Aone-saaan!”

Aone indulged in a smirk and let himself be pulled off course. It wasn’t so bad being around him and Azumane together. A drink could wait.

“Why weren’t you at the game?” Nishinoya pouted. He wrapped Azumane’s arm around his neck, propped his chin up on the muscled forearm. _Damn_ , they both looked so happy.

“Studying,” Aone said simply.

“On a Saturday?” Nishinoya looked appalled.

“Not everyone has your primitive priorities,” Azumane teased. Nishinoya blushed happily.

Aone closed his eyes briefly. Then, “It is one of the few quiet nights in the house.”

“Aone-san is studying _law_ ,” Nishinoya explained. It was flattering how impressed he seemed to be every time it came up. Aone wondered if he should explain sometime how dreadfully contradictory it all was.

“Aone-san!” Tanaka’s sister appeared at his elbow, a tray of drinks balanced in one hand. She usually worked at another bar—something about not getting on great with her father—but occasionally she picked up a shift on slow nights. Aone quite liked listening to her enthusiastic chatter on his more boring evenings of study at the pub.

“Saeko-san.” Aone bowed slightly. “Such a busy night for you to be here.”

She winked at him. “Ryuu asked me a week ago if I’d spot him.”

Aone looked over her head to see Tanaka pulling drafts expertly behind the bar. “But he is still working?”

“Nah, that’s just him makin’ sure I don’t drown right now. It’s his night off actually. Nice kid, right?” She glowed with pride. “I’ll make him stop soon as I catch up with the rush. Speakin’ of...” She raised her eyebrows at him. “What can I getcha?”

“Anything new on tap?”

“Well, I know Ryuu was really excited about...”

Not two minutes later (it paid to be a polite regular), Aone was indulging in a slightly hazy but not too bitter imperial IPA.

“Saeko-chan’s so nice,” Nishinoya sighed, still engulfed in Azumane’s arms. “Too bad she’s so busy all the time.”

“Oh?” Aone glanced at the petite blonde as she bustled from one patron to the next. She didn’t seem to be regretting anything.

“She’s awesome, right?” Nishinoya went on. “Why isn’t anyone falling over themselves to be with her?”

“Do you know that they are not?” Aone thought the statement was odd. Saeko did not seem unhappy.

“Aone-san...”

“Noya...” Azumane sounded strangely cautious.

“Why don’t _you_ ask her out?” Nishinoya leaned forward, eyes bright.

Aone froze. Never in a million years would he have seen that one coming.

“I...?”

“She wouldn’t mind going out with a college guy!” Nishinoya insisted. “She loves hanging out with me and Tanaka! She’d totally—”

“No.”

From the looks on Nishinoya and Azumane’s faces, Aone had perhaps been too blunt. He tried again.

“No. Thank you for the thought.” Aone inclined his head graciously. “But Saeko-san would not be happy with me.”

Understanding dawned on Azumane’s face, but Nishinoya didn’t appear to be done. “ _What?_ ” he barked, his scowl fierce. “You think you’re not good enough or something? You listen to me, Aone-san—”

“No, Noya...” Azumane tightened his arm around Nishinoya’s shoulders. “That’s...that’s not what he’s saying.” He glanced up at Aone.

Confusion bloomed in Aone’s chest. He hadn’t meant to be secretive, but he’d never exactly been accused of being an open book either. Still...did even his teammates really not know him?

“Oh?” Nishinoya looked up at Azumane. “Oh.” His eyes went wide. “ _Oh_.”

Confusion gave way to relief. If Nishinoya had finally figured it out, the rest of the team wouldn’t be far behind, with minimal effort on Aone’s part.

“ _Well_. If _that’s_ the case, then...” Nishinoya’s eyes darted around the pub. “Let’s see what else we can do.”

“Noya,” Azumane began in a tone that was starting to sound familiar. “Maybe we should—”

“No.” Aone raised a hand. “If Noya wants to try to find someone...” He didn’t know how to finish the sentence. He settled on a shrug.

Noya’s face was a study in unabated joy. “Yes! Yes, I want! Ahhh, this will be so _great_!” He stepped out of Azumane’s arms to stand at Aone’s side, making a show of scanning the faces around them. “So. Any preferences to start out with?”

Aone fought back a blush and took a moment to look around. No point in pretending this wasn’t what he was here for. People did this all the time. Just because he never had...well. There had to be a first time for every—

_Oh._

To most people, the man would be tall. He probably came to Aone’s chin. He was _definitely_ several kilos lighter, lanky in a cashmere sweater and tight jeans. His long, blond ponytail was looped carelessly in his scarf. A stylish leather coat was folded neatly over one arm as he chatted with...

... _oh._

A gorgeous blonde woman. She was nearly his height in her heels. They looked well together, laughing easily over their fashionable drinks. They could be an ad for twenty-year, single-malt scotch.

Aone looked away.

“Whoa, really?” Nishinoya sounded impressed. He was staring rather openly at the man with the ponytail. “Shizuku’s _brother_? No way!” He beamed up at Aone. “Nice choice!”

Aone blinked. “...um.”

“Come on!” Nishinoya tugged at Aone’s arm ineffectively. “We had dinner with them and Tanaka a couple days ago, he’s really cool, let’s go—”

Aone didn’t move. The man’s conversation with the girl ( _his sister, really?_ ) looked like it had turned a bit more serious. _Hm._ He had an intelligent face.

“Aone-san.” Nishinoya looked up at him sternly. “Are you serious about this or are you just going to stare at him all night? Because that is not a good seduction method, may I just say.”

“I—” Aone clamped his mouth shut. “We just walk up to him? And say what?”

“That’s the easy part!” Nishinoya insisted. “We walk up to him, and I say, ‘Hey, Tatsu, how’s it going, fancy seeing you here, oh hey, this is my friend Aone Takanobu, you guys should totally bang.’ The end.”

Aone didn’t feel the need to address the many things that were horribly wrong with that approach. Fortunately, Azumane seemed up to the task.

“Noya!” Azumane was aghast. “We are not going to _out_ Aone to someone who—”

“What? We know Tatsu’s gay. Remember? He was dating that one douch—”

Azumane slapped a hand (gently) over Nishinoya’s mouth. Aone pretended not to notice how Nishinoya’s eyes dilated. “You and I,” Azumane went on, blissfully unaware of what he was doing to his boyfriend’s libido, “will start a conversation with him. Casually. Without Aone.”

Aone tried to interject his opinion. “What if we just left him alone—”

Nishinoya yanked Azumane’s hand off his mouth. “Do you or do you not want to get laid tonight?” He glared at Aone as though he was deviating from some plan.

 _Not as badly as you do._ But Aone was saved from having to respond by Saeko appearing in front of him again. Like a pierced, tattooed guardian angel with cleavage. And, strangely, a small plate of steaming edamame?

“On the house.” She held out the plate, grinning toothily. “Just salt, the way you like it.”

“Saeko-chan!” Nishinoya crowded close, eyes shining and focused on the plate. “Why the special treatment?”

She shrugged and jabbed a thumb toward the kitchen. “Ryuu and I both rang in the same order. Thought I’d let one of my favorites have it rather than pitch it. Enjoy!” She turned and pushed back into the crowd, tray held aloft.

“ _One_ of your favorites?” Nishinoya called after her. “How many favorites you got??”

“Okay, time to counteract some of that alcohol.” Azumane reached onto the plate Aone held, selected a piece of edamame, and held it out.

Aone did not miss the gleam in Nishinoya’s eyes. He leaned forward and sucked at the pod between Azumane’s fingers, expertly working out the soy beans without dislodging the pod from his boyfriend’s shocked grip.

It was impressive, the depth of what his satisfied grin was able to communicate. “Here.” He held up a fresh pod centimeters from Azumane’s mouth. “Your turn.”

Azumane’s face was nearly purple. “N-Noya,” he choked, shooting Aone an embarrassed look.

Aone, for his part, felt like he was receiving something of an education. “They are quite good,” he assured him.

Azumane grimaced. Then locking his eyes on Nishinoya’s, he took the pod in his teeth and pulled.

Aone looked down at the plate in his hands. Education or no, seeing friends like this was what had dragged him out to a bar on a Saturday night in the first place. He didn’t need to exacerbate the situation.

“My, my, that looks tasty!”

A subtle scent, clean and fresh and citrusy, nudged aside the smell of fried food and beer. Aone lifted his head to see— _oh my_ —the man with the ponytail. And the scarf. And the cashmere sweater. Aone brought his eyes back up to the man’s face before they went down any farther.

He stood, perfectly at his ease, next to Azumane. His smirk could only be called cheeky as he watched Nishinoya catch the bean pod before it fell from Azumane’s mouth to the ground. It was clear he had not been commenting on the edamame.

Nishinoya scooted into Azumane’s side possessively. “Sure is.” There was no embarrassment in his voice. “Why don’t you try one?” He tipped his chin toward Aone, and presumably toward the plate of salted edamame.

“Mm,” the man hummed. “May I?” He reached out a slim hand, his wiry wrist sporting a delicate watch.

Aone held the plate out to him.

The man had a nice face. High cheekbones, a mouth that smiled a lot, with eyes that said it wasn’t for show. Not a hair was out of place in his sleek ponytail. His sweater still had the fold creases along the sleeves. All in all, he looked like someone had stuck him in the middle of a heavy book and pressed him.

Aone felt...large. Perhaps something akin to a mountain made entirely of boulders, with no sharp edges or elegant cliffs.

“Like nothing you’ve ever had before, right?” Nishinoya pressed, one eyebrow raised.

The man swallowed. Aone did not watch his throat. “Truly, I have never had edamame before this moment.”

Azumane laughed. “Nice to see you again, Mashima-san. Come to celebrate Shizuku’s win tonight?”

“It seemed the supportive thing to do. And, dear god, please.” The man waved a hand. “Tatsu. Mashima-san makes me feel like I have to sell someone something. Lovely to run into you all again.” His eyes flicked up to Aone’s, then down the front of the coat he still wore. “And company.”

“Aone...” Nishinoya’s voice was falsely innocent. “...this is Mashima Tatsuya. Tatsu, Aone Takanobu. Tatsu is our friend Shizuku’s brother. Aone is my teammate.”

Aone would not have believed Nishinoya capable of such a formal introduction. He inclined his head. It was quite well done. “Mashima-san.”

“Hm.” White-blond lashes narrowed. “I will not, of course, insist on returning the favor, Aone-san, but I must reiterate my preference for Tatsu. In situations like this,” he added breezily.

 _What situation_ is _this?_ Aone considered his next steps carefully. “Tatsu-san,” he decided.

Tatsu’s eyes went a bit wider. They were gray. “Well.” He cleared his throat. “If we must.”

Nishinoya looped his arm through Azumane’s. “Tatsu, you need a drink,” he chirped. “Asahi, let’s go get him a drink. Later!”

Aone watched Nishinoya shove Azumane through the crowd up to the bar. _Later?_

Tatsu hummed next to him and reached for another piece of edamame. “What are the odds we’ll see them again, do you think?”

Aone was a bit miffed, to be honest. If someone was going to select a drink for Tatsu, he would have liked to do it. He hoped they didn’t just send over whatever beer Nishinoya had settled on tonight. His taste was inconsistent. “I am not a gambler,” he admitted finally, “but I think your judgment is sound.”

“I flatter myself that it usually is. However, lately...” Tatsu turned to face Aone squarely. He flashed him a smile without teeth. “So. Aone-san who is not a gambler. Tell me about yourself.”

 _Shit._ Aone preferred that others did the chattering. “I am a volleyball player,” he offered. It seemed a safe place to begin.

“I happen to know a minuscule amount about volleyball, being related to another such individual. My sister is a setter.” Once again, something about Aone’s coat front seemed to capture Tatsu’s brief attention. “I am willing to guess you are not.”

“Middle blocker.”

“Ah. And that means—?”

Aone cocked his head slowly. How basic were they getting here? “I am a defender.”

“A defender.” Something flickered over Tatsu’s face. He looked at the floor. “How nice that must be.”

There was enough in the tone to indicate that they were no longer talking about volleyball. Aone was at a bit of a loss. Sweat threatened on his forehead. How did strangers carry on casual conversation when there was so much unsaid in every word—?

Saeko, perpetual guardian angel, shoved through the crowd at that moment, a frosty glass in one hand. “Hi, boys! Noya told me someone over here still needed a drink.”

“What is it?” Aone asked suspiciously, putting out a hand to stop Tatsu from reaching for it.

Saeko’s laugh was loud and, Aone knew, warranted. But Tatsu was not going to have a bad drink if Aone could help it. “It’s what you had. Down, boy!” she teased. “Noya asked me what you were drinking tonight and told me to give your friend the same.”

Aone dropped his hand. That was smart.

“So thoughtful!” Tatsu cooed, accepting the beer. “This is your recommendation, Aone-san? I’m all excitement.”

Suddenly Aone wished he’d gone with an old favorite sake. Something a little more sophisticated than the beer expected of a college freshman. “Do you like beer, Tatsu-san?” he asked as Saeko disappeared once again into the mob.

“I am delighted to try whatever you like.” Tatsu sipped at the beer and made a pleased sound.

Aone tried very hard not to let his brain run with that statement. “I like a great many things. If you prefer something else, Tanaka-san has an excellent selection of—”

“Tell me about other things you like.”

Now, Aone’s brain was definitely running. _Happy people. Guys. Guys who feel strongly about things._ “I prefer wine, but I rotate in a sake every so often. Pearl, if I can find a good one.”

Tatsu licked beer foam off his lips, and Aone looked over his head quickly. “I never would have taken you for a connoisseur of alcohol. You’re, what, twenty-two?”

Aone tried not to straighten his shoulders too obviously. “Twenty.”

“Twenty,” Tatsu repeated, eyes definitely roaming over his chest. “Oh my.”

“And you are—?” It was only fair.

Tatsu smiled up at him. “Thirty. Please be nice.”

 _Thirty??_ Aone was so far out of his depth, it wasn’t even funny. “My parents have an affinity for good food and wine.” He was not being defensive at all. “I have been surrounded by their influence since birth.”

“How familiar does that sound,” Tatsu muttered into his glass. “Food, then? You are beginning to strike me as somewhat of a traditionalist. Japanese cuisine above all else, I expect?”

“Tanaka-san’s salmon is perfection,” Aone allowed. “You will find no better even in Tokyo. But if we’re discussing favorites, I will never turn down a strong attempt at French food.”

“Is that right?” Tatsu sipped at his beer. “You know, I’m half French.” A passing stranger nudged him a little hard, and he stepped closer to Aone.

Aone stared down at him, unsure of what to say. He wondered what beer tasted like on another person’s lips. Wondered how long that citrusy cologne would last on bedsheets.

“A hopeless cook though,” Tatsu went on softly. “But, in exchange for the beer, I can recommend a decent French cafe not far from here.”

Aone swallowed hard. “I like new things.” He sounded hoarse, he could _hear_ the over-excitement in his tone, even if no one else in the world could. A kid in a mountain’s body.

Tatsu looked up at him through lowered lashes, his mouth open to say something, something that Aone wanted _very much to hear_ —

Movement caught his eye, and before Aone knew what he was doing, his whole body shifted to Tatsu’s right. The girl who’d tripped on her stilletto slammed into his back. What was left of her cold sake splashed onto his neck and over his shoulder. He grimaced. The coat would be going to the dry cleaner’s.

“I’m sorry! Oh, oh my god, I’m _so sorry_ —” Her apologies cut off as Aone turned around, her eyes widening. “Oh...my,” she squeaked, looking up at him.

“It’s all right, it’s all right.” Tatsu peered around him, all smiles. “He doesn’t bite, you’re fine, here, go have another.” He waved a small bill at the girl.

Glancing from one to the other, she snatched the money quickly and darted away with her friends.

Aone glanced down at Tatsu to argue about the cash but noticed a few dark drops on the sleeve of his expensive sweater. “I apologize.” He took Tatsu’s wrist and blotted at the stain with his coat sleeve. “I had hoped she missed you entirely.”

When Tatsu didn’t speak, Aone lifted his head. Tatsu was staring, mouth open a little. He cleared his throat. “Ever the defender?”

Aone stopped pressing his sleeve against Tatsu’s. He didn’t let go of his wrist. “It is something I can do,” he said quietly. “I’m good at it.”

Tatsu blew out a breath between parted lips. “Is your place nearby?”

Aone’s heart stopped beating. It made up for lost time when it started up again. “It’s a shared house.” He was twenty and he lived in a tiny room in a crappy house with a bunch of other guys that would give him so much shit if they knew he wanted to bring someone back to his room for the first time but _oh god_ if Tatsu was okay with all of that, then—

“Lovely.” Tatsu tossed back the rest of his beer. “Lead the way, Aone-san.”

* * *

 

Aone tried to lead the way. He managed to get them started down the street in the right direction at least before Tatsu pulled at his elbow.

“Tatsu-san?”

“You’re all right with this?” Tatsu asked softly. His breath showed in the cold night air. “You’re allowed to say you don’t want me to come with you. You know that, right?”

Something hot went off in Aone’s chest. A little irritation, a little embarrassment, and a lot of just _heat_ that he didn’t know what to do with. “Yes.” They were here, they’d left together. Did Aone really need to _say_ ‘please come back to my place and put your hands all over me?’

“And...?” Tatsu prodded. “I’m not going to insist if you—”

Aone glanced around. The street was deserted. They were in between lamp posts. He wrapped an arm around Tatsu’s waist, another hand at his neck, and brought his mouth down hard.

Tatsu inhaled sharply through his nose. Aone worried he’d hurt him or moved too quickly or perhaps his lips were pressing against his teeth. He backed away a little, ready to lift his head and apologize, when Tatsu’s hand found his hip. His grip was hard enough to bruise. His other hand fisted in the material of Aone’s coat.

“My god.” Tatsu’s lips slid over his. “I’m...I’m going to take this as a yes then.” A hand slid up Aone’s neck, still damp from the sake spilled on him, and dug deep into his short hair.

He did indeed taste like the beer Aone had picked out, bitter as he sucked gently first on Aone’s top lip, then the bottom. Licked into the corner of his mouth (they would both have chapped lips if they weren’t careful), and Tatsu’s lips followed the sweep of his thumb along Aone’s jaw.

 _Fuck_. It would seem...it certainly _appeared_ as though... _my god, someone wants me._ Aone tilted his neck to accommodate the journey of Tatsu’s mouth. He was good, with his lips and his teeth. Aone was realizing how a kiss was so much more than just pressing lips together and sighing a little.

For example, Tatsu seemed to really like any sound Aone made at all. An involuntary grunt resulted in Tatsu pressing the full length of his wiry body against Aone, hands tightening in his coat. Aone’s mind spun, thinking of other things Tatsu could help him learn.

“My place,” he said low, breath leaving him in a foggy huff. “My place. Now.”

“Yeah.” Tatsu breathed against his neck. “God, yes, whatever you want.”

The house was a few blocks from them yet. Tatsu had miserable self-control for a thirty-year-old. Once, Aone had to peel him off entirely before a drunken salaryman got too close. Tatsu had whined.

“Almost.” Aone’s voice was barely more than a vibration against Tatsu’s ear. He could feel how hard the man was each time he pressed against him. It was simultaneously a relief and driving Aone mad.

The lock on the gate was old and required full attention when one was sober at midday. At midnight, with the heat of an attractive body wrapped around him, Aone was struggling.

“My god, let me—” Tatsu grabbed the key. With a sharp push and a twist, they were in, Tatsu dragging Aone along by the coat sleeve.

Aone wanted to laugh. He was practically sneaking into his own house, spiriting a one-night-stand up to his room for any half-awake, semi-curious roommate to notice. It was reckless, a misguided attempt to shake off the last memory of a flame that never caught.

Aone felt drunk on the impossibility of it all.

Tatsu wanted him. He was gorgeous and funny and smart and had a career and a family that wanted him (probably; details could be filled in later or dismissed in the morning)...and he had left the pub with Aone.

“Same key?” Tatsu waved Aone’s pitiful keychain at the front door.

Aone nodded, stepped up close behind him as Tatsu futzed with another old, finicky lock. Ran his hands around to the open front of Tatsu’s coat, spread his fingers across the sensuality of that cashmere sweater. Felt Tatsu shiver, heard his whispered, “Fuck _,_ Aone. _.._ ”

They fell through the door, lights out everywhere save for the lamp in the kitchen stove that Kawatabi insisted on leaving on every night. _“You never know if someone’s going to need to see at midnight,_ ” he always insisted. It was a ridiculous reason, but Aone was glad for it. Tatsu looked otherworldly in the dim orange light, his cheekbones sharp enough to slice open Aone’s heart.

 _Please_ , he thought, please spill his heart out on the kitchen floor. Get all the old dreams out, let them finally, _finally die please._

Aone leaned down, and Tatsu met him halfway. Their lips barely knew each other but met in the darkness with far more noise than necessary. Aone expected Tatsu just liked being loud as a general rule. Aone shivered, a delicious sense that he was somehow making noise by causing it in another person. “I’m upstairs,” he whispered.

Tatsu pulled away, breathing fast, but his eyes were clear. “You’re sure? You can still—”

“Please.” Aone didn’t make a habit of interrupting. If someone had more words to say, then he was usually not in any hurry to stem the tide. But this time... “I need you.”

“You _need_ me?” Tatsu raised an eyebrow. He sounded so much older than thirty. “You don’t—”

“Yes,” Aone went on, for once rushing his speech. He’d said the wrong thing, he knew it, but if Tatsu left tonight, Aone would sleep on the goddamn floor. He was done, he was _so tired_ , and... “I need this,” he said, hoping his heart wasn’t in his voice too much.

Tatsu put two fingers under Aone’s chin and lifted gently. “No one needs this. Why are you doing this, love?” His voice was gentle and quiet, and Aone’s gigantic heart, trying so hard to stand on its own and be enough, crumbled to the floor.

“I do.” He tried to insist calmly, tried to sound like an adult who knew his body and knew what he wanted. His voice cracked at the end. “I need your...your hands on me. Tonight, I need...I w-want...” His throat closed up, and he stared at the space between them. His arms were still around Tatsu’s waist, hands splayed against his slim back. _Don’t make me ask again. Please. Can’t we just...?_ “I know what I want.” He could barely whisper.

Tatsu was quiet for so long. Aone finally found the courage to look up. Gray eyes searched his face. Finally, Tatsu nodded. “Right. All right. I won’t say this again, but...there will never be a moment where you can’t say no.” He raised himself on his tiptoes and caught Aone’s jaw in his hands. Put his lips to his ear. “Now. Take me upstairs, love.”

Relief flooded Aone’s chest and had to be expelled in a hard breath. “Yes.” Hands slipping down to Tatsu’s ass, he lifted quickly, pulling the man onto him.

“Holy shit, _what—_ ” Tatsu’s legs wrapped around Aone’s waist, and he half-gasped, half-laughed.

“Kiss me,” Aone demanded quietly, taking the stairs two at a time. “My neck. I like that.” It was dark, and they were too close. No one would know how red his face was.

Tatsu made a soft, surprised sound. Arms curled around Aone’s neck. Long fingers slid up into his hair, and warm lips found the collar of Aone’s T-shirt underneath his coat. “I like it too,” he whispered against Aone’s skin. “The sake smells good.”

With just Aone’s feet on the stairs, no one would be the wiser that he’d brought someone home. Someone who liked him. Wanted _him_. Liked his skin and apparently his body too and wasn’t put off by the times he said the wrong word or didn’t say anything at all.

Aone hugged him tighter, and Tatsu sighed quietly into his shoulder. For tonight, Aone wouldn’t be alone.

Once in his room—“I’m locking it, do you mind?”—Aone set Tatsu on the floor, hands skimming down his sweater to find the the hem. Tatsu took over, stripping it off and tossing it aside like it wasn’t the most expensive piece of clothing Aone had seen in a year. A thin white T-shirt showed off a lithe body, trim and hard.

Tatsu swept his hands inside Aone’s coat and slid it off his shoulders. “I’ve wanted this off you since I saw you across the bar.”

The look in his eyes was nothing Aone had seen before—not directed at him, at least—and it stoked warm coals deep in his gut. “What else? What else do you want? Tatsu-san?” He felt powerful, with those gray eyes on him. Like being a mountain was for more than just winning games for a team.

“Oh?” Tatsu smirked up at him, hands still roaming his chest. “This is all about me now?”

“Tell me what you want,” Aone whispered, hands clenching at his sides, a little helpless.

“I want...” Tatsu found the hem of Aone’s dark blue T-shirt. “...to touch your skin.” He raised it. “Find out where it’s hot.” Fingertips skimmed Aone’s abs as he pushed up the shirt, and Aone was surprised by his own quiet moan. “There?” Tatsu murmured. “You know your body is a masterpiece, don’t you?”

Aone’s eyes slid shit, focusing on nothing but Tatsu’s hands on his abs, on his chest, skating over his sternum. He came into consciousness enough to help Tatsu take his shirt off entirely, then he stumbled back against the door.

“What do I want,” Tatsu mumbled again. He took off his own shirt, threw it to the ground to join Aone’s. “I want...” Tatsu leaned onto him, and Aone groaned. “...to feel your skin on mine. It’s flawless.”

Tatsu planted an open-mouthed kiss below Aone’s collarbone. “ _You’re_ flawless,” he breathed against Aone’s chest. “Probably sick of hearing that. Everyone must tell you how beautiful...” The sentence was swallowed in a particularly worshipful suck not close enough to a nipple. “...how they couldn’t wait to touch everything, every part of you. You’re built like a fucking, a fucking god, I swear—”

Aone stared at the ceiling, lungs bursting to fill with air. Every fiber of his being that was meant to feel was on overload, rational thought having apparently remained downstairs at the front door. He raised a hand to skate up Tatsu’s long neck, into his blond hair. He tugged lightly at the ponytail, and Tatsu arched away from his chest with a high-pitched whimper.

“Out,” Aone panted.

“You sure?” Tatsu whispered. “It gets in the way so badly.”

“Want it out,” Aone insisted. “I want...”

“What do you want, anything, beautiful.”

“I want my, my hands in your hair, while.” He couldn’t. “While you...” He tried again and failed.

“While I what?” Tatsu pressed into him again, chests sliding against each other despite the coolness of the room. Aone bit his lip and tried to keep his ass firmly against the door when all he wanted was to pull Tatsu’s hips into his.

A hand slid between them, down Aone’s chest, stirring downy hair and sweet sensations, tripping over his belt buckle. Aone let loose a heartfelt groan when it altered direction and came to a stop on the inside of one thigh.

“It’s rude not to finish your sentences, Aone-san.” Tatsu’s voice was a sinful tease. “What do you want me to do? Talk to you about our favorite microbrews?”

Aone laughed. He grabbed Tatsu’s hand from his thigh and placed it directly over his dick straining against his jeans. “Oh _hhh_ , _fuck_.” He rocked into the hand, his head falling forward, eyes shut.

 _“Shit_.” Tatsu braced his feet and took over. “Oh my god, I want to...you feel so... _shit_ , you feel huge, I want—”

Hands yanked at Aone’s belt buckle, and he bit the back of his hand at the sight of Tatsu sinking to his knees in front of him. _Fuck, yes_ , this was what he couldn’t say. Tatsu’s hand was great, no question, but his mouth was the color of cherries, thanks to their activity so far. Aone wanted it on him, wanted to chase away dreams with _knowing_.

“Wait...” He stopped Tatsu from taking him out of his boxers. Tatsu’s cheeks were flushed in the light of the streetlamp filtering through his window, but he paused.

Aone leaned over, raked his nails through Tatsu’s hair (already mussed, thank you) until he came to his hair tie. One gentle tug, and the simple band slid from the ponytail. Aone sighed as silky hair fell through his fingers like water.

“My hair is coarse,” he said. “I wondered what yours felt like.”

Tatsu’s chest swelled. “Do you like it?” he whispered.

It was like asking who doesn’t like the ocean. Or who doesn’t like flowers. “It’s soft,” Aone managed. “May I hold it? While...?”

Tatsu clearly knew what _while_ meant. He stretched up just enough to press a soft kiss to Aone’s jaw, then warm hands pushed down his boxers, gentle and teasing. Aone’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Tell me what you don’t like,” Tatsu whispered, and lowered his head to pull gasps from Aone’s throat that had never been there before.

Aone tried not to pull Tatsu’s hair. He tried to concentrate on weaving it through his fingers and letting it fall again, but Tatsu’s mouth was a wonder. He was a quick study, attentive to every desperate sound Aone made, until his lips were sucking hard at the head and his hand moved the silky skin of his dick in a way that Aone was sure he’d never be able to recreate for himself.

Aone’s legs trembled as the heat climbed inside him. Was it all right that he couldn’t say anything? Words trapped in his throat, things like, _thank you_ and _that is so good_ and _why did you come home with me this isn’t how people are with me_ and _that that THAT more of THAT_ until an obscene hum from Tatsu’s throat bent Aone forward at the waist with a hard groan.

He gripped Tatsu’s shoulders, pulling that long, beautiful hair too hard, as the tremors shook him. Relief sank into every muscle while his heart and lungs tried to find rhythm with each other again. _Beautiful skin_ , he thought, rubbing fingers deep into Tatsu’s lean muscle. _Beautiful, thank you, beautiful._

When more coherent thought could prevail, when the door was no longer a condition of staying upright, Aone traced Tatsu’s jaw with light fingers. His forehead was braced against Aone’s thigh, shoulders heaving with hard breath.

Aone blinked. Tatsu’s hand was moving between his own legs... _oh._ Tatsu released a needy whimper.

“No.” Aone reached down and pulled him up by his arms.

Tatsu’s groan was frustrated. “ _Aone_ , goddammit, I need—”

“Me.” Aone caught him up in his arms again, walked the few steps to his bed, and laid him gently on his back, legs dangling to the floor. Aone leaned over him, studying his flushed face, the heaving chest, contracting abs... _god_...hard dick twitching and leaking, briefs pulled under his balls, jeans open and down just as far as necessity required.

“Me,” he said again, quietly, kneeling in front of him.

“You-you don’t have to— _Christ_ —!” Tatsu arched nearly off the bed when Aone ran hands over his hips, down his legs, and pulled all his clothing to the floor. Aone looked over him in wonder, skin pale except where it flushed red with want.

Aone ran his hands reverently up Tatsu’s calves, noting the hitch of breath when his fingers skimmed behind his knees. Pulled him to his mouth by the backs of his thighs, and Tatsu covered his own gasps with both hands.

Aone was grateful Tatsu had gotten himself this far. Signs pointed to this not taking long, and he could indulge in the new wonder of it all, the softness and hardness together, the smell, the taste, the sounds, without the stress of needing all the tricks of the trade to satisfy his lover.

 _Lover?_ Where had that...? They weren’t...

“A- _Aonee_.” Only one hand remained on Tatsu’s mouth. The other held his bedsheets in a death grip. “Don’t, don’t let me...ah, _fuck_ , your goddamn mouth...”

Aone particularly loved the texture of the head. He swirled his tongue over it, relished its perfect smoothness in his mouth. Tatsu moaned against his hand, spilling all the praise that Aone had wanted to when he was helpless against the door.

“So _hot_...”

“Want you, wanted you, wanted you like this...”

“Ahh, your mouth is _perfect_...”

“Yes, yeah, love your hands, put them on me like that...”

Aone let the words bathe him in warmth, about his tongue and his fingers and his shoulders and his thighs. They made him brave enough to slide one hand up a hip, let it skim over trembling muscle, find a hard nipple.

Tatsu’s hissed “ _shit!_ ” filled Aone with a strange pride. He tightened his lips around the head, set his tongue underneath, and sucked hard.

“ _Oh_ god oh god oh god—!” A hand shoved against Aone’s forehead. Aone pulled off in surprise, heart racing, eyes wide to see Tatsu take himself in hand. “ _Fuck—!_ ” Two quick jerks, and Aone watched Tatsu come.

Eyes wrenched shut, neck arched, mouth open and gasping, long hair spread across his chest and the sheets beneath him. Aone sincerely doubted he’d been as beautiful. He didn’t much care...he’d caused this, and this was gorgeous.

Aone held him by the hips until he sank down into the occasional shudder. Tatsu opened his eyes slowly, looked down the length of his body at Aone still between his thighs. “C’mere.” His arm flopped to one side in a boneless gesture of welcome.

Aone wanted to make a joke about being invited into his own bed, but his throat was still tight. His arms slid around Tatsu’s body as he crawled up to join him. Tatsu curled into him with a sigh. “So warm.” His breath was hot on Aone’s bare skin. “Oh.” He pulled back a little, hands on Aone’s chest. “I didn’t ask, but...do you need me to leave?”

Fear rose in Aone’s throat. “No. No, please.”

Tatsu looked mildly surprised, then relaxed into him with a soft laugh. “No, please?” His eyes drifted shut. He looked sated and comfortable. Aone liked how he fit inside his arms, like Aone’s huge body was safe and warm and wanted.

“I...need you. To stay.”

Tatsu lifted his head, eyes open and searching.

Shit. The one time Aone didn’t _have_ to say anything, he had, and it was too much. “I mean...” he tried, but there was nothing else. _Please stay and let me keep believing you want me,_ was not a thing he would be voicing.

Tatsu pressed a soft, simple kiss to Aone’s open mouth before he tucked himself back into Aone’s chest. “I’m taking you to breakfast in the morning.”

Aone blinked into the darkness.

“I know it’s traditional to _cook_ , but we’ve established that’s not my forte. Why are you still wearing your jeans? Are you comfortable like that?”

“...No?”

Tatsu sighed. His hands slid down Aone’s chest to his pants, leaving tingling skin in their wake. “You get the covers. I’ll get these.”

It was an odd effort in teamwork. Aone dragged his quilt over the top of them both while he felt his jeans (but very carefully not his boxers) being tugged down his legs. Tatsu’s hands glided back up his thighs, humming appreciatively. Aone’s face burned, and his dick twitched weakly as Tatsu reclaimed his position pressed up tight and very naked against him.

They were silent for several moments, letting the settling of the old house and their quiet breaths be the only sounds in the room.

“You know...” Tatsu’s voice wouldn’t have been audible if his head hadn’t been tucked underneath Aone’s chin. “I’m glad you wanted me tonight.”

Aone sucked in a silent breath, shocked. _He_ should be saying that. That was his line, he should be the thankful one. He opened his mouth to try to protest, but the words echoed in his mind. Someone...someone beautiful and clever and fun and good...was happy that Aone wanted _him_.

He tightened his arms around Tatsu, brought the blanket in closer around them.

“I did. Please stay until morning.”

“And then breakfast,” Tatsu mumbled sleepily.

Aone smiled into a crown of long, blond hair. “And then breakfast.”


	2. Chapter 2

It began with breakfast.

Aone didn’t think anything of it beyond how the conversation was somewhat awkward. How could it not have been? Breakfast the morning after, with Tatsu and Tatsu’s sister and Tatsu’s sister’s boyfriend, who happened to be the best friend of one of Aone’s teammates, was plenty to be dealing with on its own.

Aone didn’t even realize Tatsu had paid for breakfast until Tanaka started protesting. Loudly, as was his nature.

“You aren’t paying for shit,” Tanaka insisted. He was behind the bar, cleaning up the last of the breakfast he’d made for the four of them in his father’s pub.

“Of course not. I’m paying for an excellent breakfast prepared by a professional chef.” Tatsu shrugged on his coat, not so much as glancing at the cash on the bar. He looked at Aone. “Ready?” So casual. Like friends leaving a once-a-month get-together.

Tanaka ran a hand over his shaved head, clearly exasperated. “Look, you can’t—I mean, I just—not when I—” He waved his hand helplessly at the tall blonde woman bringing the last dishes from their table.

Tatsu raised a delicate eyebrow at her. “I can’t pay for our meals because you’re banging my sister? Need a hand there, Shizuku love?”

Shizuku set the plates down on the bar with a touch more force than necessary. “ _Always lovely to see you, Tatsu, bye now._ ” Her face was staining pink.

“But he can’t—” Tanaka tried.

“Let him leave his entire goddamn wallet if he wants to!” Shizuku barked. She shot Aone a look, half pleading, half threatening. “Nice to meet you, Aone-san. Get him out of here.”

Aone did not think for a moment of disobeying. He cupped Tatsu’s elbow, bowed his gratitude to Tanaka, and walked Tatsu firmly out the door. Reaching for his back pocket, Aone opened his mouth to say something about paying his own way when Tatsu put a hand to his chest and stretched up for a kiss.

Visions of last night exploded behind Aone’s closed eyes, and his hand reached for that pale ponytail. He wanted to pull it loose again, wanted to feel it against his face like he had hours before.

Tatsu stepped back, hand still flat on Aone’s chest. His smile was pleased. “I have to get back to the gallery,” he said softly, gray eyes roaming Aone’s face at leisure. “I have a client meeting first thing tomorrow morning I have to prepare for.”

“Oh.” Aone willed his hand to drop from Tatsu’s hair. It wasn’t easy. Of course he had to go back. His work, his life, was two hours away from the college campus. Tatsu was an adult, with responsibilities Aone had yet to know. Of course he couldn’t while a Sunday away. Frankly, Aone couldn’t afford to either, there were exams to consider—

“I can hear you thinking,” Tatsu teased.

“My apologies, Tatsu-san.” Aone bowed his head. “I’ve kept you from your obligations far too long. I can show you the nearest station.”

Tatsu blinked. “I know I should be used to your abruptness by now, but I confess my ego is reeling.” He brushed the back of his hand against Aone’s jacket collar. “You want me away so quickly?” His voice was low, with a tone that sent shivers up Aone’s spine.

“It’s not what I want,” Aone managed.

Tatsu looked up at him. “Do tell?”

“I want...” _to take you back to my room. To be lazy with you today. To forget what our Mondays will bring._ “...to see you again.” Aone held his gaze firm. “If I may.”

Tatsu’s eyes went wide. “Well,” he said after a moment, “it _has_ been quite some time since someone asked so sweetly for my company.” He slipped his arm through Aone’s, his lean frame pressed tight against Aone’s side. “Show me to that station?”

Aone might have been disappointed that Tatsu really did leave so quickly. If, that is, he hadn’t pulled Aone off to the side for a long kiss and some heavy breathing. If Aone hadn’t felt Tatsu get half hard against him. If Tatsu hadn’t whispered, “I’ll call you tonight,” with his lips against Aone’s ear. Then, yes, Aone might have been disappointed.

As it was, he was staring sightlessly into his textbooks that afternoon before he realized that he had never paid Tatsu back for breakfast.

* * *

 

A couple days later, a box arrived at the house. Kuroo delivered it to Aone’s door with his dinner balanced on top. “Kawatabi made curry and way overestimated how much. You can grab a bowl if you drop some cash in the jar next to the stove.”

Aone nodded but wasn’t really listening. He hadn’t ordered anything recently. His mother always sent him an email ahead of time if she was sending a package. He set it on his bed.

Inside the cardboard shipper was a sleek black box. It was stamped with silver in a brand name he didn’t recognize. The lid lifted to reveal, nestled in un-dyed tissue paper, the most beautiful briefcase Aone had ever seen. Soft-sided, it was made of leather worked over so finely as to feel like velvet. He took a moment, exploring the pockets, testing the zippers, admiring the tooled strap, before he noticed the small card in the bottom of the box.

_A-_   
_To aid in your pursuit of knowledge._   
_Best luck in your studies,_   
_T_

Aone set the bag aside immediately and reached for his phone. Two hours later, Aone was staring red-faced at the ceiling of his room, wondering if he could make it to the shower or if he had to jerk off right there. He’d intended to make a simple thank-you call. Tatsu’s voice over the phone had a way of making more complicated things happen.

Aone clenched his eyes shut, bit into the flesh of his thumb, and slid a hand down his jeans. At least he knew he wasn’t as loud as Kuroo.

* * *

 

Spring came, and so did a selection of fine shirts from a brand Aone _did_ recognize. His father favored the workmanship but only indulged in one a year.

_A-_   
_Will you be viewing the cherry blossoms with friends?_   
_The blue one would be stunning against the flowers._   
_T_

Aone went with Kuroo, Azumane, Nishinoya, Tanaka, Shizuku, and two of Shizuku’s friends to a nearby park that weekend. He handed Shizuku his phone and asked her quietly if she could take a photo. She was a little less likely to tease than the others, and he wanted to look as relaxed as he could. Not an easy feat.

“Ohhh.” Shizuku cooed over the first photo. “That blue is amazing against the blossoms!” She held up the phone to take another, and Aone felt himself smile.

Aone sent the photo late that night. Tatsu texted him immediately after. Thirty minutes later, Aone sent another photo of himself wearing the blue shirt. _Technically_ wearing the blue shirt.

* * *

During one late-night call, Aone confessed to nearly sleeping through a class.

“You’re not getting enough rest?” Tatsu sounded concerned.

Aone wiped a hand over his face. “Practice, workouts, end-of-year projects. It adds up.” He would not breathe a word about how his deplorable sleep schedule was mostly down to Tatsu and his sinful phone calls.

“Ah.” Tatsu apparently bought the excuse. “It’s important to stay organized with your time management in these situations.”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow when Aone wore his new smart watch to practice that week, but didn’t say anything.

* * *

 

The team’s house didn’t have a wine cellar. It would never have occurred to Aone to let Tatsu in on this fact. When the industrial wine rack showed up with an assortment of fifty vintages ranging from rare to trendy, Kuroo rolled his eyes and helped Aone clear out some space in the garage.

_A-_   
_Would love to hear your opinion on the 2004 Kaesler shiraz._   
_T_

“Surprisingly floral for something so dry and smooth,” Aone said. He’d brought a bottle to Tanaka’s pub one night, with serious instruction that it was to be enjoyed with intentionality over a careful menu. Tanaka had risen to the occasion masterfully, and he and Shizuku had been fabulous to compare notes with about the wine. The three of them had gotten a tiny bit buzzed from finishing the bottle themselves that night, but what else was to be done really?

“Exactly what I thought. I wasn’t as put off by the bouquet as I thought I might be.” Tatsu laughed. “But perhaps it was where I had it? The Barossa Valley would make anything taste like heaven.”

“It must be gorgeous.” Aone had mixed feelings when Tatsu shared stories about all the places he’d been. It made him feel at once far too young for him and far too excited about all the wonder the world held for him to see.

“It was like nowhere I’d seen before.” Tatsu was quiet for a moment. “We should go someday.”

Aone caught his breath. The statement had been casual. Light. There was too little there to read into.

“Perhaps,” Tatsu went on. “After graduation of course? And if you’d rather go somewhere else first, we should talk about that.”

Aone’s lungs released softly. “The Barossa Valley sounds wonderful.”

Tatsu hummed, low and sensuous and just right for setting Aone’s skin on fire.

* * *

 

The last game of the season ended with a sound victory but at the expense of Aone’s shoulder. He’d come down from the winning block, slipped on a sweaty patch of floor, and the ligaments, overworked from three hard matches, let go on impact.

Through the ambulance, the ER, the manhandling required to set a dislocated shoulder, Aone had kept up his impassive face. Inside, his mind was a spiderweb, crawling with worry.

_Dislocated joints are always weaker._

_The scholarship is no good without volleyball._

_The therapy will take time, but at least this happened at the end of a season._

_Months of hard work and_ maybe _I’ll be back up to everyone else’s level by fall._

_I’m not ready to be done with volleyball._

_I’m not ready for this to be over._

_I’m not ready._

They sent him home with massive painkillers and dire threats about any activity remotely resembling athleticism for a month. Aone wanted to scream, but Kuroo kept shooting him looks as he drove them away from the hospital. He kept his mouth shut.

“Need anything?” Kuroo finally asked when they reached Aone’s room.

Aone didn’t turn around. “I’m fine.” He struggled to unlock the door with his left hand. Dropped his key on the floor. He stared at it, his throat getting tight.

Kuroo had the key in hand in a moment, pushing the door open, setting Aone’s phone and water bottle next to his bed, turning on a lamp. It was when he began fluffing a pillow that Aone reached out his left hand. “Kuroo.”

“Yes! Right, yeah.” He backed away from the bed, hands raised, grin sheepish. He was nearly out the door when he turned, chewing on his lip. “Um. Just so you know.”

Aone looked at him and tried to focus. It was probably time for another pain pill.

Kuroo ran a hand over his perpetual bedhead. “I called him. Your, uh, boyfriend? I looked up his number on your phone while you were...while we were at the hospital.”

Aone stared at him.

“Yeah, so, anyway, he’s coming? I guess?”

“You guess? What...what does that mean, you guess?”

“Ahahaha, okay, you’re right.” Kuroo edged farther out the door. “He’s totally coming. Said he’d get a train tonight. So. Yay?”

Aone’s mind latched onto something concrete to keep from spinning out of control. “Tatsu-san isn’t my boyfriend.”

Kuroo’s face lost its tension, his expression going flat.

Aone held his gaze and refused to give in.

“...sugar daddy?” Kuroo enunciated neatly.

Aone glared at him.

“Whatever he is, he’s staying in your room.” Kuroo walked out the door. Popped his head back in. “And I _know_ that’s not gonna be a problem. I’m just saying I’ve gone through a pack of ear plugs.”

Aone walked calmly to the door and shut it in his face. If someone was going to lecture someone else about intimate noise, that someone had no business being Kuroo.

He’d had every intention of staying awake until Tatsu arrived. Unfortunately, the pain meds had other plans. When he opened his eyes, the room was dark except for the small lamp on his desk. His shoulder throbbed. His mouth was dry. He tried to sit up, groaning. How was everything in his entire body connected to his shoulder?

“Wait, hang on, what do you need?” A soft voice, a rustling sound.

Aone blinked sleep from his eyes, and there was Tatsu, getting to his feet from the floor. His jacket was folded neatly as a seat cushion against the wall, two or three overstuffed bags nearby.

“Tatsu...san?” Aone croaked.

Tatsu grabbed the water bottle on the desk. “Is this what you want? Do you need something for the pain?” He glanced over the desk, reached for a small pill bottle. “These?”

Aone watched him, silent and glowing inside. The lamp turned Tatsu’s ponytail gold. They’d seen each other a couple times since that night in Tanaka’s pub, always both of them impeccably dressed until they weren’t, both striving to impress the other until they forgot to. Never like this...Tatsu in jeans and a thin T-shirt that was probably never expensive. Aone incapable of dazzling anyone with his body at the moment.

Tatsu offered a pill and water. “You don’t have to move, I’ve got it.” Aone lifted his good hand, but Tatsu frowned. “Just open your mouth.” His voice was quiet. It lacked the tone that Aone knew was meant to arouse, but nonetheless his heart picked up the pace.

“You don’t have to worry.” Tatsu dropped the pill on Aone’s tongue with no sensuality, just care. “I’m here.”

Aone would speak. Eventually. He would get the words out that were crowding his throat. He’d ask the questions that refused to leave his brain— _will you? do you want to? could we? am i? are you? do you? please?_ But for this moment, he scooted over on the bed. Patted the sheets next to him, never taking his eyes off Tatsu, glowing in lamplight.

The way Tatsu’s face softened was beautiful. He settled on the bed, every movement graceful, and curled into Aone’s side without a single jostle.

Aone leaned his head back and closed his eyes, smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey, this happened! I was really itching to write Aone fic and remembered that I kind of left him hanging with my OC Tatsu in my Haikyuu college AU.
> 
> [@codango](http://codango.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr  
> [Marcella Christie](http://marcellachristie.com/) for my alter ego


End file.
